


Back then things were a less shitty than they are now

by Coloured_Rainbow



Category: BoJack Horseman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 14:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14522472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coloured_Rainbow/pseuds/Coloured_Rainbow
Summary: In which BoJack meets Todd for the first time and he really wants a toaster strudel.Also something about nails.





	Back then things were a less shitty than they are now

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a shitty drabble I did
> 
> Check me out on tumblr : ^ )  
> rainbow-flavoured.tumblr.com

Unwillingly rippling the surface of consciousness, BoJack let out a pained groan at the sudden feeling of something digging into his spine. He groggily attempted to roll onto his side, only fumbling back onto the sea of garbage he was sitting in. Swearing to himself, he managed to shakily sit up out of bed after spilling enough trash onto the floor. He let out a sigh of relief when the pain ceased and looked back to see a hammer where he had been laying.

“What the…?” Blinking his eyes fully open, he looked out across the rest of his room and things started clicking together when he saw the plethora of nails and screws lining his walls. He faintly remembered something about him resenting his father for tearing down his tree house as a kid and wanting to build a new, better one. He guessed that blindly shoving nails into his walls was the best he could manage when he was that drunk.

After a few more minutes of nodding off and waking back up, he forced himself to stand up, narrowly missing broken bottles and stray nails as he tiptoed out of his room and into the kitchen, which was (no surprise to BoJack) just as trashed as his bedroom was.

He could really use a toaster strudel right now.

Absentmindedly humming a familiar tune, he trudged into the kitchen and made his way to the breakfast pantry only to be met with empty containers and other non-breakfast related trash.

“Aw--What? Who the hell took my strudels!” He groaned. “The one good part of my mornings, _of course_.”

“Oh sorry, dude,” came a voice that made BoJack shout in surprise and slap the pantry shut. “Aaaand sorry again for spookin’ ya.”

“What the--who are you? Why are you here?”

“Name’s Todd!” He unnecessarily shouted as he stood up from where he was laying on the couch. “Sick party last night!” He was a shorter human with slight face scruff, wearing a red hoodie and a yellow beanie that gave BoJack the impression that he wasn't a celebrity… or he was a _washed up_ celebrity.

“Are you famous?” BoJack suddenly asked, following his silent train of thought. “You don't look famous. Did you use to be famous?”

“No, but I’m _aspiring_ fame,” Todd smirked hopefully, lifting the last of a toaster strudel into his mouth.

“What the hell! My strudel!”

“Oh yeah, sorry ‘bout that,” he mumbled through a full mouth. “Everything was already taken and the strudels were jus’ sitting there--”

“That's because I _specifically_ asked for _no one_ to _touch them_!” BoJack groaned. “Great. An awful start to another awful day.”

“Aw,” Todd lisped, walking towards him. “You wanna hammer some nails into another wall? That always seems to cheer you up.”

“No, I don't want to--you know what? Get out of my house.”

“Okay, but the thing iiiisss… I don't exactly have anywhere else to go.”

“Uh-huh.” BoJack droned.

“Kinda got kicked out.”

“ _Uh-huh_.”

“And y’know I was thinkin’ I could just crash here!”

“Uh-huh--we’ll see the problem with that is that I don't want to here.”

“C’mon man, pleeeaassee!” Todd whined, sitting on a stool and sprawling himself across the kitchen counter. “I don't have a house! I'm homeless! Homeless Todd!”

“I don't care.”

“Okay, I have the solution.”

“Oh really.”

“What about--”

“Uh-huh.”

“If I--”

“Yeah.”

“Buy you a _bunch_ of those strudels.”

BoJack opened his mouth to talk, but stopped himself. “...Define a bunch.”

“Well, I got eighty bucks in my bank account, so like… I dunno, 15 or 18 packs?”

“...You know what,” BoJack glared, “...... fine. You can stay.”

“YAAYYYY!!”

“Just shut up and get those strudels.”

“Aye Aye, Cap’n!” Todd boomed, saluting BoJack as grabbed his wallet and sped out the door. “You won't regret this!”

“I probably will!” BoJack shouted after him as the front door shut. Letting out a sigh, BoJack walked around the kitchen counter and picked up another one of the many stray hammers strewn about, walking back over and sitting on a stool, absently picking up a nail and slowly hammering it into the counter to kill time until those strudels came.

Todd was right, it did make him feel better.


End file.
